


A Best Friend You Can't Get Rid Of

by plumeria47



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Don't mess with big sisters, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Protective Siblings, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27767125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumeria47/pseuds/plumeria47
Summary: Nobody else gets what it’s like to be the big sister to brothers as weird and wonderful as Alex and Henry.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Beatrice Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor & June Claremont-Diaz
Comments: 11
Kudos: 44
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	A Best Friend You Can't Get Rid Of

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NutterZoi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NutterZoi/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, [NutterZoi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NutterZoi/pseuds/NutterZoi)! I had a lot of fun with this prompt - hope you like it.

_“Having a sister is like having a best friend you can't get rid of. You know whatever you do, they'll still be there.”_ \- Amy Li

From their earliest memories, royal children are taught they are special and that this carries special responsibilities. Even if they don’t fully understand yet that Grandmother is the Queen, and that they may – or may not – be on the throne themselves one day, they know that cameras flash wherever they go, and when those cameras are upon them, they mustn’t frown, fidget, scratch themselves anywhere or shout. They learn to make eye contact and shake hands with strangers, no matter how frightening the prospect. Philip and Henry might wear long trousers at home, but when they head out, until they are a certain age, they must wear shorts with knee socks. Beatrice must wear a knee-length dress in public, no matter the weather, despite drawers full of jeans and other playclothes at home. 

A nanny stays with them when their parents do grownup appearances – which is far too often for the young royals’ taste, although, in reality, Princess Catherine and Arthur Fox make every effort to be as hands-on with their children as possible. From the back of their automobiles they pass parks with playgrounds, or children playing on the pavement in front of homes, or heading to the local ice cream shop with friends or walking to the Underground stations with their parents, and know that these activities aren’t for them. They are set apart, and taught early not to trust anyone too much. 

From their earliest memories, the Claremont-Diaz siblings are taught they aren’t anything special, except to their parents. They make their beds and take out the trash, attend public school, play in local soccer leagues under the Texas sun and argue over whose turn it is to feed their pet bearded dragon. Since it’s Texas, there are plenty of other kids with skin colors and features similar to theirs, influenced in part or in whole by America’s neighbors to the south, and they blend right in. Yes, there are white people who resent the influx of Hispanic immigrants and who look down on anyone with brown skin, but those moments are balanced out by amazing food and cutthroat games of Scrabble, and the easy mix of English and Spanish they all speak when they’re at home, shoes kicked off and good music playing in the background. 

June and Alex are naturally fairly trusting people, but they learn to take it with a large grain of salt – even if neither of them is yet old enough to include a shot of tequila with that – as they enter adolescence. First their mother becomes a US representative, the long-shot Lometa staking her claim on Capitol Hill. Then, the steady base of their family crumbles under the weight of arguing, with Oscar leaving for California – where he soon runs for Senate – leaving the rest of them in Texas. June begins her studies at UT Austin and doesn’t say anything about how it allows her to stay home and watch out for Alex when Ellen is in DC. Alex throws himself into his honors classes and varsity lacrosse at the high school and doesn’t say anything about how he’s deliberately keeping busy so he won’t have to think about Ellen being in DC, or Oscar being ... anywhere that isn’t where they are. Even after Leo joins their household, June stays put, foregoing shared apartments and late-night parties with friends so she can be there for Alex. Her smart, sarcastic, weirdly intense little brother, and his weird boy-crush on a static image of Prince Henry.

As the middle child and the only girl, Beatrice is used to being overshadowed by her brothers – the heir and the spare, born into a tradition that leaves no room for girls as long as there’s a handy Y-chromosome around. Beatrice doesn’t actually mind being passed over for the throne; she has enough of a job watching out for Henry. Philip might have been groomed early on to take the throne one day, but Beatrice hasn’t needed any prodding to be Henry’s mini-mummy, holding her little brother’s hand when they walk to church on Christmas, or staying by his side so he won’t feel so overwhelmed by the masses of people jostling to get a look at them on the rare occasions they’re allowed – or in Henry’s case, coaxed – out in front of the cameras. He’s always been different, Henry has, and while Philip solemnly accepts the role he’s been handed, she can see the way Henry steels himself before stepping out. Although their parents are attentive, sometimes they must be attentive to grownup things, and so Beatrice makes sure she is always there whenever Henry needs her.

He goes off to Eton where he’s mostly out of the public eye, but Beatrice, already several years in at her own boarding school, still worries about him, how he’s faring with his peers. She tries to distract herself with her own peers, throwing herself into social activities which, as she gets older, turn into parties. She revels in the chance to have a few drinks, to allow the alcohol to relax her, dull her worries.

Alex graduates from high school as class president and valedictorian but thankfully, as he jokes, not required to give _two_ speeches. With the outcome of the November election still uncertain, both June and Alex put their future plans on hold. June turns down a job with the _Sacramento Bee_ , and Alex defers his admission to Georgetown by one semester. Whether or not Ellen wins, he’ll start in January. And although June hasn’t said anything out loud, she knows she’s heading to DC come January, too. Who knows? Maybe she can get a job with the _Post_. But there’s no way she’s leaving her baby brother alone to fend for himself among all the political sharks. Sure, he wants to become a shark, too – he’d interned for Rafael Luna’s campaign when he was barely fifteen, loving every minute of that insanity – but he also needs someone to make sure he comes up for air periodically. She knows Alex. He’ll bury himself in school and politics, subsisting purely on coffee and whatever food someone shoves at him, and forget to have a _life_.

In the meantime, they travel around the country, giving small stump speeches for their mother, or (mostly) just standing quietly by her side while _she_ gives speeches. Alex seems in his element, diving into the politics June would be just as happy to dive out of. Being dispatched – with Nora – to the Rio Olympics a few scant months before the election is a bit nicer. Sure, they’re still representing their mom (and Nora’s grandfather), but the scrutiny is on the athletes, not them, and they’re given a bit more freedom. A few Secret Service agents lurk in their usual watchful orbit, but it still feels wonderful to walk around, unmolested by paparazzi, as they take in the events, socialize with the competitors and discover the local booze. It doesn’t last. Alex is in a foul mood as they fly back home shortly after the diving finals, ranting about how Prince Henry is an arrogant prick. Nora gives him a kiss and tells him math jokes to distract him, while June shrugs mentally. Apparently the boycrush is over. Just as well – there are far more important matters on the horizon.

She still has that _J-14_ magazine, though, hidden under her socks. She still wonders what made it so important to Alex.

Arthur Fox dies when Beatrice is 20 and Henry 18 (Philip, off with the military, is now 23 but he’s not really Bea’s concern so, whatever). Henry has always been so quiet and withdrawn, but now he’s pulled almost completely into himself, like a turtle inside its shell. With Arthur gone and Princess Catherine withdrawing even more than Henry has, hardly emerging from her rooms at all, Bea knows it’s up to her to support Henry however she can. But she’s hurting, too. She misses her dad, his down-to-earth demeanor, the adventures he’d try to sneak them out on when they were young, his quiet understanding. She’s struggling to hold _herself_ up, much less Henry, too. He’s expressing his grief in anger, lashing out at everything and everyone, and Bea, who has always been so close to him, feels she can no longer get near him.

Bea goes back to her final year at uni although she no longer sees the point. Earning a classical violin degree is laughably meaningless; her dad is dead, her mum, the heir to the throne, has practically become a cloistered nun, Philip is his usual arsehole self, and Henry needs help she cannot give. Besides, it’s not like she’ll ever be allowed to play in the London Symphony Orchestra, like some of the other music students are hoping for. So she stumbles through her lessons, putting out the minimal effort and numbing her pain with alcohol when she can. And then she goes to a party where people are offering more than alcohol. They’re offering thin lines of a tantalizing white powder. While drinking relaxes her, the cocaine energizes her, makes her feel _amazing_. It’s not that she doesn’t still miss her dad, but her depression lifts, and everything feels bright and _possible_. For half an hour. And then it fades. So she takes more. And soon, nothing else matters but the hit. Not her dad, not her mum, definitely not Philip. Not even Henry.

June takes up residence at the White House and watches Alex throw himself into his college studies at Georgetown with the same intensity he gives to everything else. He doesn’t try to make friends among his peers; every potential relationship comes with an NDA, which is pretty off-putting to most college students no matter how much they might love to be able to brag that they were friends with the First Family. Plus, now they have even more Secret Security agents trailing them everywhere, scouting out the safety of every store, restaurant or bar they might want to visit (and, anyway, there’s absolutely no way Alex would be caught dead drinking anywhere in public before his 21st birthday, not with his mother’s reputation on the line). Instead, he, June and Nora form their own Secret-Service-approved social group, thankfully remaining close-knit even after Alex and Nora end their brief fling. (Good thing, because June really likes Nora and her dry, brilliant wit; she would have hated to have to kick her ass if she’d hurt Alex.) 

Actually, aside from that fling with Nora, Alex seems as uninterested in dating as he is in befriending his classmates – possibly for the same reason: Secret Service agents and NDAs aren’t sexy. June feels she should worry about him less, since he’s under her watchful eye – or at least the Secret Service’s (and Amy and Cash are NOT people she’d ever want to piss off, like, _ever_ ) – all the time. School, the Hill, the White House – those are the only places he ever goes, aside from runs along the Mall. It doesn’t keep the tabloids from trying to invent girlfriends and collegiate hijinks, but June knows it’s all crap. Although it does sometimes feel like Alex spends more of his free time with the muckity-mucks running the nation than he does with his own family these days. The guy sometimes does his homework while hanging out in the congressional Galleries, for God’s sake. June knows he’s old enough now to not really need hovering over anymore, but old habits die hard. Nothing’s more important to her than her family. 

Bea thinks it’s ridiculous that her family wants to put her in rehab. Philip has always been a prick and Gran is used to getting her own way, no matter how ridiculous she’s being – like insisting Bea study classical violin instead of guitar – so Bea knows that the two of them forcibly dragging her off to rehab is just one of their stupid poncy ideas. She’s _fine_ , thankyouverymuch. Bea checks herself out as quickly as she can and heads to her favorite club in London. She can’t help but notice Henry’s absence, though. Surely he wouldn’t have tried to pack her off to rehab, but even though Philip and Gran were giving her the wrong sort of attention, at least it was attention, and she misses the time she and Henry used to spend together. She steps outside of the noisy club long enough to ring him on her mobile, gratified when he arrives shortly after. And Henry has always been a sensitive, old soul – but she is still completely taken aback when he sits down beside her on the steps and bursts into tears. 

Despite the drugs humming through her veins she can hear instantly how alone and frightened he is without Arthur’s support, without hers, because Arthur is dead and he’s afraid she’ll be next and he’s gay in a family that has absolutely no room for that. Oh. _Oh._ Henry’s tears reach her, deep down inside, into the pain she has been trying to numb, and she remembers how inseparable they used to be, before school and death – and her selfish choices – pushed them apart. Bea vows then and there that he will not be alone not one moment more, and that she will return to rehab in the morning.

June thinks Alex is being ridiculous. She knows there’s something going on with him, but she can’t figure out _what_. He seems to have – to her surprise – turned the fake friendship with Prince Henry into a genuine friendship, which hopefully means she will never be witness to another $75,000 Cake Debacle ever again. And, honestly, she never really got why Alex hated Prince Henry so much in the first place. Sure, the guy seemed boring from afar, but boring competence is not actually a crime and, anyway, he was actually quite fun when he came to the New Year’s bash. Besides, it seems unlikely someone as flashy and lively as Pez – he was a _riot_ – would be friends with anyone truly boring. She’s glad that Alex seems to have finally found a match for his sense of humor, and for his intellect. 

But despite being seemingly happy with his royal friendship, and finally having someone outside their insular Trio to interact with, Alex is currently now stewing over something and he refuses to talk about it. June drags him for a run by the Reflecting Pool in front of the Lincoln Memorial, hoping to literally jog some sense into him, but he ends up tripping over his own toes around lap eight – this being the guy who was MVP for his varsity lacrosse team three years running – and, seriously, dude, WTF? 

Beatrice is grateful every day for the second chances she’s had since getting sober. She finished her degree, she made some new friends at Narcotics Anonymous, and she and Henry are closer than ever. She’s never told a soul what Henry confessed to her on that dark night four years prior, although she’s sure that Pez knows. Beatrice covers for Henry when he slips out for a rare private tryst somewhere, and listens to his long-suffering sighs as he recounts his latest public date with the latest inoffensive blonde. 

But “grateful” is perhaps not the word she would have used when she raps once and then barges into Henry’s room late one evening, only to overhear him recounting, in exceptional detail, what he really wants to do, sexually, to the person on the other end of FaceTime and _fuck_ , is that _Alex Claremont-Diaz’s_ face she’s seeing on his screen?

Henry swears. She swears. She’s pretty sure she hears Alex swear before Henry abruptly cuts the connection and shoves his phone under the bedclothes, as if that somehow will make the whole situation disappear. Henry tries to babble out an explanation, but June is overcome by fits of giggles over the whole thing – just ... _bloody hell_ , so that cake-tastrophe was just, what, some weird form of foreplay for them? Her brother looks briefly affronted by her laughter, but June knows he can’t stay angry - they’ve always shared an appreciation for the ridiculous. Sure enough, before long he’s giggling just as much as she is. 

June is _livid_. Why the hell won’t Alex _tell_ her? She knows. She _knows_. Her bedroom door is literally across the hall from Alex’s, and even though the hall is, like, three times the width of a normal residential hallway, it’s not exactly the Grand Canyon. She’d been unwinding in her bedroom after the State Dinner in January when she’d heard what was unmistakably Henry’s voice at Alex’s door. And then silence. For an hour. And yes, their walls are pretty well insulated, but still – she was fully aware of when Henry left again, and who goes visiting in someone’s bedroom at 11 o’clock at night? Lovers, that’s who. 

She’d been both gobsmacked ... and not. Alex had never shown any outward signs of being gay or bisexual or whatever the hell he is, except for his obsession over Henry, starting with that _J-14_ magazine pic. But she’s thinking back to how much _more_ obsessed he’s gotten since the fake friendship turned into a real one, how focused he gets on his phone, how guilty he looks when he’s been interrupted, like she’s caught him with a hand down his pants. She’s been watching as he’s cheerfully – in fact, eagerly – accepted international travel assignments they both used to hate, and she _knows_ it’s so he can sneak off to see Henry, regardless of whatever pathetic excuse he’s saying out loud. But now it’s _three fucking months later_ , Alex has blown her off for dinner – _again_ – and June has _Had. It._ So she yells at him and practically throws the ancient _J-14_ magazine at him, and watches as he smiles, almost like he can’t help himself, touching the photograph of Henry with gentleness and reverence, murmuring words of praise about Henry’s character and June realizes ... Alex isn’t just fucking a Prince of England. He’s falling in love with him. And he has no idea. 

When June and Beatrice finally met, for that one wild night in LA, Bea immediately felt like she’d met a kindred spirit. Their origin stories are completely different, but June’s current life is honestly not _that_ different from Bea’s, in that they’re both living improbably privileged lives that are simultaneously improbably imprisoned: socially by the unachievably high expectations and pressures placed on them, and physically by the security teams that follow them everywhere. They’ve both learned how to manage those obligations – June with perhaps more grace than Beatrice, given the lack of addictive history – but Bea’s learnt to be proud of how far she’s come. And both she and June seem to share the same boundless affection, coupled with no little frustration, for their younger brothers. June wants to rein Alex in when he gets overinvolved with ... everything ... whereas Bea, for all that she wants to protect Henry from the world’s hurts, has nonetheless also wanted to nudge him out of the nest and watch him _soar_ ; she knows he can. 

Following the karaoke adventure, the two women exchange emails and texts, comparing notes on how they found out about the boys’ relationship, sharing their worries about what their romance might mean for everyone’s future and sanity and, in attempts to lighten their stress, delight in swapping embarrassing stories of their brothers as youngsters. They can’t go jetting off as much as Alex and Henry do, and so they don’t see each other again for months. But Bea tells June that Alex is safe at Kensington after she hears him yelling out her rainy window, although she doesn’t know about what passed between the boys until after Alex has left and Henry tells her, shy but pleased. And June tells Bea about the planned deception, fake-pairing herself with Henry to throw paps off the scent, so that Bea won’t flip out when she sees the tabloid headlines. Given how utterly useless Philip is as an older brother, Bea is delighted to find another doting sibling across the Pond.

As the last crash of music dies away, and the audience stands to applaud, June hops up from her chair and jogs up to where Bea is standing on the sidelines, beaming at the success of the evening. Knowing how PPOs operate, which is to shoot first and ask the corpse questions later, June had taken the time to notify one of them in advance that she’d be doing this, rushing up so she can hand a large bouquet of flowers to her friend. Besides, it’s not like she doesn’t have her own security team blending in with Bea’s squad of protectors. The royal PPOs all know her by now – but still, best to avoid getting shot at, especially at someone’s inaugural fundraising effort. Bea knows she’s there, sent her a proper invite and everything (Henry ponied up the cost of June’s £8,000 ticket in support of his sister’s endeavor), but still – June wants to make sure Bea is properly congratulated for her mammoth efforts, even if she _was_ ranting about something called “cullen skink” earlier. Beatrice’s smile gets even larger as she accepts the bouquet, making June very glad she’d done this.

The boys declined attending the concert themselves (“I don’t want any attention taken away from Bea – she’s worked too hard for this,” Henry told her) and so June finds them nestled together on the settee in the music room when she arrives back a short while later. Henry has his back against the arm of the settee and Alex is reclining between Henry’s knees, his back to Henry’s chest. They each have an e-reader in one hand, their free hands linked together and resting on Alex’s chest. June would pretend to vomit at how excessively adorable they’re being except ... they really are adorable. Bea is still accepting congratulations and hobnobbing with the celebrity guests who had contributed to the evening’s entertainment, so for the next hour or so it’s just the three of them, relaxing and laughing. The next day is for the four of them together, though, at least until Alex and June need to return to the US that night (Pez is, alas, doing things for one of his charities in Mozambique; he sends frequent demands for texted photos to make up for his absence). June, Alex, Bea and Henry fill the hours – after decadently sleeping in – with brunch and multiple rounds of Cards Against Humanity.

While the White House Trio are amazing, and the Super Six are doubly so, June has really come to treasure her friendship with Beatrice in particular. Nobody else gets what it’s like to be the big sister to brothers as weird and wonderful as Alex and Henry. 

And, three years later, after a stupidly lavish wedding, she and Bea are delighted to finally become proper sisters.

**Author's Note:**

> June and Bea are awesome big sisters. Meanwhile I'm awesome at ... batting my eyelashes and hoping you'll leave a comment! *bat bat* But, seriously, I love hearing from my readers. Concrit is fine, too - just be polite. :-)


End file.
